


Negan Poems

by Squiddles66



Category: The Walking Dead (Comics), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Bondage, Doggy Style, F/M, Masturbation, One Shot, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sensation Play, Sex, short poems
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 10:23:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9319478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squiddles66/pseuds/Squiddles66
Summary: Short poems of Negan and reader.These poems were the first ever fan fiction material I ever wrote in my years of being a part of multiple fandoms.





	1. All I See Is Red

All I see is red as the scarf robs me of my sight.  
The clinking sound of his belt sends electricity through my body;  
soon enough my arms become useless as he binds them.

His salt and pepper beard trace light scratches along my stomach.  
Cool leather hand secured on my chest as he teases;  
limp my body goes as my mind becomes foggy and I submit.

All I see is red as he moves further down, my senses are tenfold.  
Tugging the belt against my wrist wanting to grab his hair;  
I feel his salt and pepper beard scratch lightly between my inner thighs. 

What was red now is white as I become a puddle of pure ecstasy.  
Vibration from his moans run up my spine and out my mouth;  
this is poison and I want more.


	2. The Devil

“What do you long for?” He asks, his voice replaced with the devils’ vibrato —  
emphasising his devilish smile and showing his poisonous teeth.

In the haze of hell I am terrified in the most exhilarating way;  
with my trembling — and extremely flushed — body moulded into his cool leather chair; I begin.

I slowly divide myself, tracing the arms of the chair; feeling ice on the tips of my fingers and transferring that ice to my inner thighs.

His burning eyes follow my every trace as I tease my mewling quim.  
The devil is amused and I am completely consumed; I continue.  
“To be intoxicated,” I say, with a shiver of pleasure running through my blood. 

Sitting on his throne across from me, staff in hand and so it began. The devils’ tongue lightly dancing on his lips, yearning to taste my lustfulness trickling down the chair. 

Drunk on his essence is my desire, to feel weightless as his breath like whispers arouses my senses. I want to be lost between hard and velvet plush of skin.

Enter me, consume me and I will comply to your every whim —  
kiss me till I bleed. 

I am terrified — yet hungry — as the devil growls, vibrations send shock waves throughout my body; I am possessed.

To know that these cries of mine are unheard of — for they are not of this world. 

Our eyes locked with one another across the room, consuming each other’s growls, feeding our sins; just like that, I was his and he was mine — I am no longer human; I am a demoness and he is my devil.


	3. First Flush of Morning

It’s the first flush of morning,   
the sun is barely teasing the horizon;   
illuminating the sky with a lavender glow.

I dangle my feet over the lip of the mountain,   
taking in these last few moments of this peace ─ oh, how it is surreal.

I am vulnerable and I am bait for these creatures I share the world with.   
This world is wicked; the sanctuary does its job to conceal.

Stubborn I am to think I was alone;   
I was greeted not by death but the man who offers his service of safety;   
my Achilles’ heel.

Worry is spread across his face, but there is a fire in his eyes.   
Only an inch of space between him and I;   
I am inflamed as he begins to kneel.

My hands grasping his broad shoulders;   
his warm breath lingering over the soft like petals of my lips.   
My head is spinning like a wheel.

Without warning I am spun around facing the tree;   
arms tied with his soft red scarf; fingers trace down my spine,   
pressing the buttons to get me in position.   
Then with one last step, a kick at my heel.

Flesh against flesh; it was exquisite.   
The scent of his musk is my aphrodisiac; my messiah between my legs is my addiction.   
Humming a pleasurable tone, I’m begging for more electricity from his steel.

With mind-blowing ─ rhythmic ─ momentum,  
I become an elixir of blissfulness. With a loud howl ─ like a hungry wolf ─   
he follows with a burst full of desire.   
It all seemed too unreal.


End file.
